Time in a Bottle
by cmaddict
Summary: Post "Wedding Job". Nate muses over Sophie's ire at the Mosconi wedding and comes to a surprising realization. You can't save time in a bottle.


**A/N: This is my first "Leverage story", since I got hooked after the premiere. It's post "Wedding Job", set just before the tag scene at the restaurant. I absolutely love the Nate/Sophie interaction in all the episodes, and this one wouldn't leave my head until I got it written. Hopefully I have at least somewhat of a grip on the characters. Hope you enjoy, and as always, leave constructive criticism or thoughts at the end.**

**Disclaimer: "Leverage" is the property of Dean Devlin and TNT. I don't own it, nor am I making a profit off of it. I'm just having a little fun.  
**

The sun had set below the horizon when the Leverage crew returned to their headquarters after the Mosconi wedding, casting its red, orange, and pink hues across the city. Tired and slightly tipsy after breaking into the champagne from the wedding, all four of Nate's thieves disappeared into the night as soon as he stopped in front of their building.

Parker dashed off to do God knows what God knows where.

Hardison mentioned something about catching the latest episode of "Dr. Who" on his laptop.

Eliot wanted to soak his bruised, tired muscles in that Jacuzzi he'd bought with the last payout.

And Sophie, who had barely spoken a word to anyone since they'd left the Mosconi wedding, disappeared without so much as a good night.

Which, of course, left Nate alone in his office with his bottle of bourbon and a head full of musings.

He knew exactly why Sophie was so ticked at him. This entire case had been important to her, and he'd blown it – and her – off. He'd been oblivious to her feelings through the entire mafia mess. He supposed the words he said while posing as the reverend helped to smooth things over, but even then, she hadn't said anything to him outside the usual business. Nate had overheard her telling Eliot that she wanted to get the keys for the Palermos' restaurant and do something for them, but that would probably happen in a couple of days. Hopefully after he had a chance to talk to her.

Nate poured some more of the tan liquid into his glass and took a sip as he spun around in his chair to face the plate glass window behind him. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, and it was now twilight in Chicago. Nighttime in the city always reminded him of Paris and the many months he'd spent chasing the art thief across Europe. Who would've thought that a woman like that would become the woman of his dreams?

Even the bourbon reminded him of Sophie. It was one of the first things about her that had impressed him in Paris. The first time he'd ever met her was in a bar outside of Marseilles, where he was investigating her for art theft in Europe. The smart, sassy, seductive brunette had sashayed up to his seat at the bar and ordered bourbon – straight. Unusual drink for a woman. But then again, Sophie Devereaux was an unusual woman. She'd managed, in a matter of days, to wiggle her way into his heart, despite the fact that he'd been a married man. Despite the fact that she was a grifter.

But the problem wasn't that she was a thief. The problem was she'd never left his heart or his mind, even after Paris. Even after his son died and his wife left.

And now, she was back.

It was perfectly obvious that she wanted something more with him now, even after their pseudo-relationship in Paris. He wasn't blind, and he certainly wasn't an idiot. What she'd said to Maria Mosconi about not committing was directed at him. Surely she hadn't forgotten that he could hear every single word she said.

To be honest, she confused him. The feelings he had for her after she'd popped up again in his life confused him. He'd thought he could just disappear into his bottle and his misery, but then she showed up again. Granted, Nate had sought her out… for help on a job. Now that they were working together every day, putting their lives on the line every day, he just couldn't help it.

Parker had been right when she said that he couldn't have left the bank in Juan because Sophie would've still been in there. He couldn't have left Sophie there with the gunmen (even if they weren't really dangerous), not when it would've meant she was in danger. That was when he knew he was in deep. When he couldn't move out without the sight of her lying dead in a hot bank in his mind's eye, he knew there was no going back. But even with that knowledge, it was like he was torn in two different directions – the past and the future. The past was where his son was, where his desire for revenge was. The future was where Sophie was.

He needed more time to figure everything out, how he could keep the memory of his son and move on with Sophie.

Surely she understood that.

Surely she understood that he wanted to move on with her. Surely she knew that he really did want her. Surely she knew that he was tired of the lonely, drunken nights.

"I thought you had gone home by now."

The familiar British lilt sounded soft and sweet to his lonely ears, and Nate spun in his chair to face her. Sophie Devereaux leaned against his door frame, her arms folded across her abdomen. Her dark hair was pulled back behind her ears, and she still wore that satiny shirt from the wedding. He'd always loved satin on her.

"Just thinking," he replied, gesturing to the bottle as his eyebrows lifted in a questioning gaze.

"Dangerous pastime," she said with a grin and a nod. She sank into one of the chairs in front of his desk, and he poured some liquor into a spare glass.

"I thought you'd left."

"For some inexplicable reason, Nate, I just can't seem to get away." He saw straight through that double entendre, and his deep blue eyes connected with her chocolate brown orbs as he set the bottle down on the desk. Suddenly a smile spread across her face, and she tipped her head slightly to one side – an action he thought was absolutely adorable. "At least you've sprung for glasses instead of drinking straight from the bottle."

Nate let a small smile play at the corners of his mouth as he handed her the glass. "They're for company." They sat in companionable silence for several minutes, each taking a sip of the bourbon and each never breaking eye contact.

"Nate, I wanted to apologize for how I acted during this case," Sophie said suddenly, turning her gaze to her lap. "I was stubborn and pig-headed, and I expected more out of you than you were willing to give at the moment."

He sat back in his chair and smiled gently at her. "Yes, you were. But you were right." Her eyebrows lifted, giving him a surprised look. He'd never really admitted that before. "The Palermos did need our help, and we shouldn't ignore something like that just because of a little personal risk. They were no different than any of our other clients. You know, despite the whole mob thing."

Sophie returned his smile gratefully. "Thank you, Nate. That means a lot." She finished off the bourbon and stood up, as if she was about to go. He couldn't help feeling just a little sad that she was about to walk out of his office again, even though he knew he'd see her again the next day.

God, he had it bad.

But suddenly she turned around, and his heart jumped. "Did you mean what you said earlier?" she blurted out. Her dark eyes widened, as if she were shocked that she'd actually said something about it.

"Mean what?" he asked softly.

She laughed dryly and rolled her eyes. "You know perfectly well what."

"Oh, you're talking about what I said at the wedding?"

"Of course. And, by the way, it's a good thing you didn't stay in seminary. You would've made a terrible vicar."

Nate laughed and poured some more bourbon into his glass. "Good to know I'm in my right calling."

A smile spread across her face despite her obvious ire. Her smile hadn't changed much since Paris, and the warmth that filled his chest at the sight of that smile hadn't changed either. "Did you?" she asked again, the smile fading.

Finally Nate sighed and leaned back in his chair again. "I need time, Sophie. You know better than anyone how much Sam's…" His voice trailed off, and he looked at her. She had tears in her dark eyes again. "It still hurts too much."

She nodded once, biting her lower lip as if that could stop the tear from sliding down her face like it had just hours earlier.

"Sophie, I meant what I said about making me a better person, and I never thought it could be possible. But," he sighed once, his eyes leaving hers. "I need more time."

Sophie inhaled deeply and wiped angrily at the tear sliding down her cheek. He knew that look of frustration in her eyes, and he couldn't believe that he'd been so oblivious to it before. "Just one thing, Nate," she said softly, so softly he had to strain to hear her. "You can't save time in a bottle. It has a funny way of getting away from you."

And then she disappeared.

Leaving him alone again.

He hated being alone. That empty feeling that had plagued him until she came back into his life welled up again… that same empty feeling that he'd felt after his son died. Her absence almost made it worse.

Nate had meant every single one of those words he'd said at the wedding service. Marriage was hard, hard work. But it was work that, when a person loved another person, seemed almost easy, simply because it was something they wanted to do. Marriage was about completing the other person, making them a better person than they'd ever thought they could be.

Sophie did that for him. Despite her flaws and her past, she completed him. She was that voice of calm rationality, that heart of empathy, that quick mind. He needed her because she had qualities and abilities that he didn't possess. It sounded so cliché to his ears, but he was quickly realizing it was true. The last time he'd been as happy as he was now, working with his crew… working with Sophie… was before his son got sick.

And he wanted to make it work with her.

But was he ready?

The sound of the elevator dinging its arrival jerked him back to reality, and a panicky feeling filled his chest. She was leaving. And he had to stop her.

"Sophie!" he shouted suddenly, surprising even him with the sheer force of his voice. He jumped up from his chair, sending it sliding across the wood floor as he dashed out the door toward the elevator. In his mind, he cursed Hardison for picking a place with so many winding halls. Did she leave? Did she walk out of his life again?

When he finally made it to the elevator, the foyer was empty. Completely and utterly empty. Just like his heart. What had he been thinking, asking her to wait an indefinite amount of time for him? Not many women waited for the men they loved; he'd had personal experience with that.

"Damn it," he muttered, running his hands through his hair as he frantically scanned the room for her. He really was a fool. An idiot and a fool. An idiot and a moron and a fool.

"Nate?"

This time, the soft voice behind him really did startle him, and he whirled around. Sophie was standing behind him in the doorway, her brow furrowed at him in her patented, cute, confused stare. He breathed a sigh of relief as a smile spread across his face. "I thought you'd left."

Her brow furrowed deeper, and she looked like she was trying to hold back a fit of laughter. "I heard you bellow. What took you so long?"

"Me? Where'd you go?"

"Your office." Suddenly her eyes widened in understanding. She chuckled, biting her lip to try and hold it in. But she failed miserably. "You forgot the short cut, didn't you?"

Nate glared at her for just a moment before finally cracking a grin. He certainly had forgotten the short way from his office… damn that Hardison. "I'm gonna kill him," he muttered, still grinning.

Sophie burst into a fit of laughter before she covered her mouth with her hand, folding the other arm across her abdomen.

He stared at her what seemed like ages. She looked beautiful to him, standing there with her hand over her mouth and her dark eyes twinkling with laughter. Even more beautiful than Paris. A little older, but she hadn't changed much.

"What is it, Nate?" she asked, her voice bringing him back to the present again. The smile had disappeared from her face and had been replaced by something he couldn't place… impatience, perhaps. Not that he could blame her. She'd waited for him for a long time, and he couldn't miss the flash of hurt in her eyes.

Nate couldn't take it any longer. He crossed over to her in two long strides. "Nate, what are you doing?" she asked, but he barely heard her. One hand gently cupped her face, tangling itself in her hair, and the other slid around her waist, pulling her into his body.

"Not waiting anymore," he murmured before gently brushing his lips against hers, swallowing her surprised squeak.

For a moment, she was too shocked to kiss him back. But it didn't last long, and he smiled when he felt her lips gently move against his. Her hands fisted in his dark jacket, pulling him closer, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he hadn't done this sooner. It felt so right, so good. The grifter and the insurance cop. The irony of that odd relationship struck him in that moment, but then her tongue slid along his, and he forgot everything except Sophie – her smell, her feel, her taste, the sensation of her ardently returning his kiss. God, he didn't think he'd ever grow tired of kissing her.

Finally the need for oxygen became too much, and Sophie pulled away. When his eyes fluttered open, her chocolate-colored orbs met his ice blue ones. They shone with a strange mixture of happiness and confusion. In that moment, he thought she'd never looked so beautiful.

"I thought you weren't ready to start a relationship," she said, her British accent pronounced even more by the husky quality in her voice.

"Maybe I realized that you're the one I want to spend my time with. Maybe I realized that I can't let you get away again."

Sophie pulled away and stepped back, leaning against the door frame behind her. He knew she was trying to read him, trying to understand him. In truth, she was probably one of the few people that really did understand him. "But you're still not ready. Nate, I can't…"

"Sophie, listen to me." He took one step toward her, his hands reaching for hers. "Before you came back, my life was… a little bad."

She cocked an eyebrow at him elegantly. "A little?"

"Okay, maybe it was pretty close to rock bottom." He glared at her as her eyebrow went up even further. "But I meant what I said. You make me a better man. And I can't let you get away, even if I'm not ready."

Her eyes filled up with tears at his words, and she drew a deep breath. "So what do we do?" Sophie asked, wiping at a tear that had trekked its way down her cheek.

Nate stepped toward her and let go of her hand so he could gently brush away the teardrop. "We take this one day at a time."

Sophie thought about it for just a moment, then nodded slowly, her arms looping around his neck as his wound around her waist. "One day at a time," she murmured.

And as he softly kissed her again, they felt like they indeed had all the time in the world.


End file.
